MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
I Go, Sweet Friends!
I go, sweet friends! yet think of me
When spring’s young voice awakes the flowers;
For we have wander’d far and free
In those bright hours, the violet’s hours.
I go; but when you pause to hear,
From distant hills, the Sabbath-bell
On summer-winds float silvery clear,
Think on me then—I loved it well!
Forget me not around your hearth,
When cheerly smiles the ruddy blaze;
For dear hath been its evening mirth
To me, sweet friends, in other days.
And oh! when music’s voice is heard
To melt in strains of parting woe,
When hearts to love and grief are stirr’d,
Think of me then!—I go, I go!